Aegon POV
The future king valiantly pushed back the desire to jump off the highest window in the Red Keep. For the last eight hours, he's been forced to listen to old men and his mother and Aemond nag one other about that law and that one.
He's kind of imagining his sire's headspace at this moment. Playing with toys wasn't something he had any interest in as a child. But honestly, he'll take just about anything over this constant yammering. Maybe he should've drunk until he passed out the night before. That way he can get a plausible excuse on why his head's about to explode.
Is it really so necessary to run circles around a subject but not actually get anywhere approaching a solution? Is he going mad in typical Targaryen fashion or is there absolutely no reason to drag out bureaucracy until the end of time?
"Prince Aegon. Our discussion seems to have bored you. Do you have anything to suggest?"
He blinks his eyes in semi-confusion at the Sea Snake's mocking words. Grandfather told him that the master of Driftmark had no issue with disrespecting Viserys each chance he got - though that's not much of a brag. Everyone in court has dissed the king one way or another.
To win the Master of Ships' approval, or at least dissuade him from betraying him in the future, he'll have to establish himself as decisive and cunning. Two things clearly unheard of in his sire's time. Getting distracted when matters of state are brought forth is a lousy impression.
But if there's anything Aegon excels in, it's thinking unconventionally. So, he's got this.
The Small Council, sitting around a the adorned table all look in his direction. Eager to hear his wise input. Or more likely wanting to see his public humiliation.
Traitorous pessimistic little fucks.
Aegon leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Your grace. My lords. I assure you I'm not bored. I simply already have the solution that could address all our concerns."
He's one for theatrics. It's the family curse.
Corlys and Otto both raise their eyebrows, intrigued by his confident demeanor. Orwyle is the one to voice his thoughts.
"Pray tell, Your Grace. What is this solution you propose?"
"We've been focusing on the problem from the wrong angle. Instead of enforcing stricter regulations, what if we incentivize compliance?"
The Hand of the King is curious in his inquiry. "Incentivize compliance? How would that work?"
"Ser Tyland mentioned a law regarding tax evasion. Instead of harsh punishments for those who evade taxes, we introduce a system of tax credits and benefits for those who willingly comply and pay their dues on time."
"So, you're suggesting we reward the law-abiding citizens rather than punishing the offenders?"
Its his mother who asks the question. She seems genuinely impressed. Aemond is showing no outward signs of liking the plan.
Jealous bastard. Don't be a sore loser.
"Precisely. By offering tangible benefits to those who comply, we not only encourage voluntary adherence to the law but also create a positive environment where people feel motivated to do the right thing."
Fancy words sell his pitch better than actual substance ever could.
The Grandmaester is virtually on board. "It's an unconventional approach, but it might just work. We could even publicize the benefits widely to promote awareness and encourage participation."
Aegon nodded in agreement. "Exactly. By highlighting the advantages of compliance, we can change the narrative from punishment to reward, fostering a sense of unity and collective responsibility among the people."
His uncle Gwayne won't get to arrest as many people as he used to. But he doesn't think it'll be too much of a bummer. The Black cells are getting crowded the last few weeks.
The council members exchange glances, contemplating the potential of the crown prince's proposal.
Grandfather finally puts a stop to the suspence and offered a small nod.
The old bugger actually likes me. Huzzah.
"My prince, your idea is indeed brilliant. Let us explore this approach further and consider its implications. It may well be the breakthrough we've been searching for."
The room buzzes with renewed anticipation as they work towards a consensus, driven by the prospect of a more effective and innovative approach to governance.
Oh shit. What has he done. He'll stay trapped in this room until supper.
The Gods are cruel.
**
Aegon and his wife Baela, sit at an elegantly set table, enjoying a private dinner together. The private dining room exudes an aura of opulence and intimacy. The walls are adorned with intricate tapestries, depicting scenes of valor, romance and dragon warfare. His bride has peculiar tastes. But he'll indulge her today. He unintentionally broke his promise of sparring with her because he was hold up in the Council chambers.
He's just as pissed about his imprisonment as her. But he can't really use that argument when he also dreaded getting his ass kicked in front of the nobles. Better momentarily angry than agreeing to reschedule on the morrow.
Soft, warm lighting emanates from strategically placed candles, casting a gentle glow that bathes the room in a intimate ambiance. The table is set with fine silverware, delicate crystal glasses, and exquisite china. Plush, upholstered chairs surround it, inviting comfort and relaxation. A bouquet of fresh flowers graces the center, filling the air with their sweet fragrance. Sophistication and refinement are predominant. A testament to the distinguished status of the future rulers.
He pulled all the stops, so that her temper vanishes hastily.
He smirks and engages in playful banter. "You know darling, I have a striking suspicion that my Master of Ships cannot stand me."
She laughs softly. "Oh, Aegon, you always seem to find a way to ruffle feathers. What exactly did you do this time?"
He pouted in mock offense. "What makes think I've done anything?"
She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of the wine, not deeming his question worthy of an answer.
He leaned closer, his voice low. "Perhaps he's angry. Angry that I've stolen you heart. He sees the way you smile at me. The way your eyes light up when I enter the room. I've corrupted his favorite granddaughter."
Baelena blushes for a second. Then a playful glimmer overtakes her eyes. "And what makes you think I wasn't the one to corrupt you?"
He grinned. He enjoys the game more than anticipated. "So you won't even denying loving me?"
With a swift hand, Baela knocked his chalice to the floor. "Sorry my prince. I know you start seeing and hearing things when you're too drunk. Best to minimize the risk."
You little spitfire.
"Don't worry, I have no plans of drinking tonight. I have far more enjoyable pursuits in mind." His eyes darkened as they traveled across his wife's ethereal form. He never thought himself one for monogamy. Laughed at Aemond telling him to get his act together that day before his wedding. But she's somehow bewitched him.
It's ridiculous. And devastatingly frustrating.
"Oh! Well, I hope you and your hand have a pleasant evening. Your grace."
See what he means.
"Is it that hard for you to admit your burgeoning feelings to me? You're only depriving yourself. We could be having all manners of entertaining fornication if you just confess your love for me."
He's not one mince the truth. Besides, what's not to love about him.
"You were talking about how my grandfather despises you. I think I might share the same sentiment."
Aegon leaning back, feigning thoughtfulness. No, his heart wasn't being stabbed with a million tiny daggers. He fancies the chase. Probably as much as her.
"Well, I will continue to be the thorn in his side, adding a touch of mischief and dare I say liveliness to his day. You, however. I have more intricate plans to win your affection. Or more precisely, draw out your already existing feelings into the open."
She smiled as if challenging him and pitying him in equal parts. "Oh, husband. I know you will."
He picked a glass of water while she raised her chalice of wine. They clicked the two together, toasting to the beginning of his quest.
**
Aegon sits in a plush armchair, with his infant son Aerion nestled on his chest.
The one year old babe screamed so loudly, Baela wanted to barge in the nursery and fire the wetnurse for not comforting him properly.
He got her to cool down for a few minutes and let him handle it first. She has a real short fuse. And becomes a real life dragon in stressful situations.
She thankfully listened.
And now he's trying to read to little Aerion to bore him back to sleep. His mother always did it to him. So it's a good shot. Maybe she thought it was fun bonding. A worn book rests open in Aegon's lap, its pages filled with illustrations of majestic dragons and valiant riders.
"Now, little Aerion, let me tell you the tale of Karnax, the first dragon, and his noble rider, Aerion, after whom you were named".
Aerion perked up and got wide-eyed, as if he understood his father's strange soft mumbling. He's not shouting, so it's a win.
"Karnax was a dragon of unmatched power. His scales shimmering like molten gold in the sunlight. Obviously, he was Sunfyre's ancestor. And Aerion, a brave and adventurous soul, shared a bond with Karnax that was forged in the fires of destiny."
Aegon's voice carries a blend of excitement and reverence as he recounts the ancient tale, his finger tracing the illustrations on the aged pages. His son may hear only gibberish. But he's such an adorable listener, that he doesn't care.
"Together, they soared through the vast skies, their hearts beating as one. Karnax's wings beat with thunderous might, carrying them over mountains and oceans, while Aerion held on tight, his spirit dancing with exhilaration."
He gently touched his son's hair as be narrated the tale. His bluish violet eyes progressively getting more drowsy.
"They protected the realm.Karnax breathed fire that could melt stone, and Aerion wielded a sword whose blade gleamed with courage and righteousness."
Aegon's gaze shifts from the book to his sleeping son, his eyes filled with paternal affection. "And so, my dear Aerion, as you grow, remember the courage and strength that reside within you. You carry the spirit of the first Aerion, and with it, the potential for greatness."
He received no response from his little friend. But his wife on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of speaking, when he shushed her with his index.
She almost struck him until he pointed at their sleeping son. She proudly looked at the child and mouthed that he lay him down his cradle and come to her. He did it very slowly to not risk waking h again. Babes spend most day napping, just to recharge and yell again, rejuvenated and ready. When he closed the door, she attacked him with her mouth. He was now at her mercy.
She released him from the passionate embrace and gave a less than decent look. She is the one corruption him.
"I have to say I've never seen you look more appealing." She whispered to his ear.
"Disgusting. Am I no more than a piece of meat to you. I do have feelings you know." He meant that. Slightly.
"Well you'll have to punish me, then. For objectifying you, my prince."
Godsforsaken witch.
"Gladly."
If her heart hasn't caught up yet. He'll have to inform her body of its sole keeper some more. It's only fair.